


didn't just come here to dance (if you know what i mean)

by pirateygoodness



Series: keep playing my heartstrings, faster and faster [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, First Time, Girl Band, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: These past few months have been a learning curve, and Kara’s done her best to keep on top of a whirlwind of firsts (first sex with a woman, first threesome, first a lot of other things involving hands and mouths and other people). But somehow other stuff - liketoys- seemed like it was on another level altogether. Something Kara wouldn’t be qualified for, or something, and she knows that’s not how this works but it just feels like a big step, a level she hadn’t thought she was at. But she likes everything she’s done with Sara and Kendra so far and suddenly they’re mentioningthis- this big, kind of intimidating thing, no pun intended - like it’s commonplace.





	didn't just come here to dance (if you know what i mean)

They’re laughing over beers, in the quiet of Kendra and Sara’s apartment. Later, Kara will think about this moment over and over again, trying to remember how the conversation got to that place. With the two of them, though, it could be any reason and the only thing that sticks out in her mind is taking a long pull of her beer and then Kendra’s voice, honey-sweet and affectionate. “- of course, Sara loves getting fucked.” 

Sara chuckles, leans across Kara’s body to share a kiss with Kendra, who is leaning into Kara’s other side. “The very most,” she says. 

Kara stares down into her lap. Ordinarily she’d be delighted by the two of them kissing in front of her, she’d feel the pull of wanting to join in. But she finds herself suddenly fascinated with memorizing the drawing on the label of her bottle. 

They know each other so well, now - have spent more than one night tangled together as three in Kendra’s bed - and that phrase has so many different meanings but there’s one in particular that makes Kara suddenly nervous because, it suddenly occurs to her that Sara and Kendra do _that_. 

She’s not paying attention to anything but her own thoughts, so she doesn’t notice the girls noticing her silence until they try to snap her out of it: Sara with a kiss to her temple, Kendra with a comforting hand on her arm. “You okay, sweetness?” Kendra murmurs. 

She looks up, and her eyes immediately meet Sara’s. The sudden intensity of it makes her stomach flip-flop with nerves and her brain sort of disconnects from her mouth as she hears herself say: “Get fucked _how_?”

Sara’s eyes have never looked quite this blue or as inviting. “With a harness,” she says. “And something from the toy box, obviously.” 

Kara swallows. “Like a _strap-on_?” she whispers. 

She loses eye contact as Sara dives in and brushes her mouth against Kara’s throat, kissing up to her ear. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “Like that.” 

“Oh,” Kara says. She can feel herself go warm, assumes she’s blushing from her ears to her chest from the way her skin overheats. There’s an answering flutter between her legs, not quite arousal but _interest_.

These past few months have been a learning curve, and she’s done her best to keep on top of a whirlwind of firsts (first sex with a woman, first threesome, first a lot of other things involving hands and mouths and other people). But somehow other stuff - like _toys_ \- seemed like it was on another level altogether. Something Kara wouldn’t be qualified for, or something, and she knows that’s not how this works but it just feels like a big step, a level she hadn’t thought she was at. But she likes everything she’s done with Sara and Kendra so far and suddenly they’re mentioning _this_ \- this big, kind of intimidating thing, no pun intended - like it’s commonplace. Kendra’s thumb draws circles on her forearm and she squeezes, drawing Kara’s attention toward her. “You alright?” Kendra asks. 

From her other side, Sara curls around her and starts to play with her hair, smoothing it off of her temples and behind her ears. Kara’s so red-faced that the touch is almost cooling. “Yeah,” she says, before she lets her eyes flutter closed. “Thank you.” 

“You want to talk about it?” Sara asks. She’s using her sweetest voice, calm and quiet, the one she brings out whenever Kara gets past the point of too flustered. 

Kara shakes her head. “I think I just need to do some thinking,” she says. “Is that okay?” 

Sara mouths at her ear again, a little more teasing than comforting. It sets a shiver running all the way down Kara’s body, starting from behind her ear and settling between her thighs. “Of course,” she says. “You just let me know if you need any help thinking about it, okay?”

Kara’s breath hitches and her heart starts to flutter, blood pumping southward. “Yeah,” she whispers, more like a squeak. 

She’s always _liked_ penetrative stuff - at least with boyfriends she’s had in the past, where it’s been the anatomical default. It’s different than the sex she’s had with girls, but honestly things have been so satisfying that she’d forgotten about that possibility, at least for a while. Now, though, her brain is starting to fill in every gap, drawing connections between _that kind of sex_ and the experience of sex with Sara and Kendra. 

“You want that?” Kendra asks. “Or do you want to talk about something else?”

Kendra’s rubbing her forearm, and her hand is soft and calming and Kara puts her hand overtop, laces her fingers into the spaces between Kendra’s. “Something else, please?” she says. 

They both oblige at the same time, a little too eagerly. Sara launches into a story about the latest martial arts movie she plans to drag them to see, Kendra about the new installation at the National City Gallery. Kara honestly wouldn’t mind going to either, and when they turn to her for a deciding vote the conversation ends in gentle bickering over what takes priority: watching actors pretend to get punched in the face, or taking in fine art. 

Slowly, Kara’s embarrassment starts to fade. Those thoughts - about sex, Sara, with _stuff_ \- start to seem less overwhelming, and drift to the back of her mind. 

She’s still thinking about it when she gets home - she’s got an early shift and Kendra and Sara both have late ones, or she’d stay over - but just a little. Just enough to allow herself a cursory internet search, to to see what that might look like. It turns up mostly links to sex toy shops that she’s too nervous to click; to video streaming sites that she’s _definitely_ too nervous to click. 

She falls asleep late, sleep elusive because of the way her heart is fluttering anxiously. It’s telling her one thing: maybe she does want to try that after all. 

+

She looks again the next night, curled up on her couch with a mug of hot cocoa. She’s got her laptop on her lap and a pillow between her knees, as cozy as she can make herself, considering. 

Her search string is a little more refined, this time. She finds a few pages with words rather than wall-to-wall pictures. There are still photos there but they’re less intimidating, more for clarity, and that’s more what Kara needs. She reads one article, then another, and slowly the idea seems less extreme and more like something Kara wouldn’t mind. 

Her phone vibrates next to her and she starts. It jolts her out of her reading reverie, makes her realize that her heart’s going a little faster and that her body’s responding just a little bit. So maybe it’s not so much _wouldn’t mind_ , and more _sort of wants._

There’s a message from Sara: _what are you up to tonight?_ , followed by the fire emoji and three kissy faces. 

Kara thinks about texting back the truth - _looking up sex acts online and thinking about you_. She doesn’t, but she does send back a little blushing-faced emoji, one that Kara knows Sara will interpret in a very specific way. 

She shifts her weight, the pillow falling away as her knees press together and she’s suddenly aware that she’s more than a little worked up. 

Her phone vibrates another message alert, and the screen shows a heart, a little winking face. Then, _anything you’d like to share?_

Kara texts back, \no, thank you\ with one hand. The other is already drifting between her legs, finding the inseam of her jeans and applying just a little pressure. The contact hits her like a jolt, making her suddenly aware of her body. She feels half-aroused, in a space between being able to let it pass and needing to take care of her own desire. Experimentally, she rocks forward, wriggling into the heel of her hand, and it makes her need a little more decisive. 

She reads a little further - gets to the part about toys, different sizes and shapes, and feels her cunt twitch involuntarily. She reacts, rocking her hips downward, letting herself feel and savour a little thrill of pressure and contact against her clit. Kara’s suddenly very sure that she wants _that_ , wants everything she’s reading about to happen to her. A thought crystallizes: she wants to be filled up. It’s not that she hasn’t been, because when Sara’s fingers are inside Kara she’s more than full. But she wants to be filled up like _that_ , wants Sara to be in control of it, wants to dig her nails into Sara’s ass and pull her deeper inside - 

(There’s a chance that Kara is more into this than she’d initially thought.) 

She unbuttons her jeans, slides her hand down. She’s sort of moving on autopilot, trying not to overthink this because she doesn’t want to get embarrassed (she’s sitting on her couch, touching herself, thinking about all of the new ways she wants to have sex with her girls). She wants to enjoy it. 

Kara’s fingers dip below her underwear, slide forward and down and she’s a little surprised at how much wetness she finds there. Her cunt is overheated and slick with arousal, so much so that Kara’s fingers almost sink into it. 

She puts her laptop aside and squirms forward, slouching down so that she can let her knees part. She teases her entrance, thinking about how it would feel to be filled, to be _fucked._. When she finally brings herself to draw her fingers up and find her clit she sighs. Her body is eager, closer than she’d expected as she starts to rub lazy circles, then tighter ones. It’s only a few moments before her fingertip hits the right spot and she comes _hard_ , arching forward, curling into herself as she shudders. 

Kara lets herself slump back down, catch her breath. Her laptop is still beside her on the couch, her phone nearby. She picks up the phone before she loses her nerve, texts back: _okay. maybe I want to try that thing we talked about last night._

+

 

It’s two days before she and Sara can see each other again. They feel like the longest of Kara’s life. 

She spends two days feeling nothing but _flustered_ , and it creeps into her work, her music. She’s so distracted during concert rehearsal that she makes a mistake in her favourite piece, forgetting three full bars that she can normally play in her sleep. She drops a plate at work while she’s bussing tables, something she hasn’t done since she first started waitressing. She gives up on taking the bus entirely, because her body is a constant hum, a little bit turned on _all the time_. But then, how can she possibly be expected to function, knowing that Sara Lance is going to fuck her, later. 

Hopefully. She thinks. 

Sara hasn’t said much besides _okay_ and a winky-faced emoji, which is no help at all. Kara trusts her, trusts that when they’re actually together they’ll talk about it. But something about not knowing is adding to Kara’s jitters, her mind filling in the blanks with all sorts of ideas. 

+

It’s a Saturday afternoon when Kara goes over to Sara and Kendra’s apartment, and knocks on the front door. It’s important that it’s Saturday, because it’s the day when Kara’s off work and Kendra has a late shift at the cafe, so it’s just her and Sara. That had seemed easier to handle - two instead of three, less overwhelming - but now Kara finds herself half-wishing that Kendra would be there, at least for moral support. 

Sara answers, wearing her favourite pair of weekend jeans and a tank top, one of the low-cut ones with a cat wearing a baseball cap on the front. It shouldn’t be giving Kara butterflies, but she feels them all the same. She’s a bundle of nerves right now, restless energy and nerves that her body is somehow sublimating into arousal. “Hey,” she says. 

“Hi,” Kara mumbles, gaze somewhere between Sara’s chest and her shoes. 

Sara steps into her personal space. She smiles and her eyes are so _blue_ and her face is so close and then they’re kissing. Sara’s mouth is slow and sweet: the perfect antidote to Kara’s anxiety. Kara melts into the kiss, all of her excess adrenaline settling firmly between her legs as a gentle throb. “Come in?” Sara drawls. 

“Yeah,” Kara says. “Yeah, ok.” 

Her voice comes out softer than she thought it would, and it’s mirrored by the way that Sara’s eyes soften looking at her as she walks into the apartment. 

Sara gets the door while Kara takes off her shoes, and over her shoulder she asks, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water please,” Kara says, her mouth suddenly dry. 

Sara trails her fingers down Kara’s arm as she passes. Kara follows her to the kitchen. She sips at the water Sara offers her, stares into it like maybe it can help her find the words she needs, right now. They’re on opposite sides of the kitchen island and Sara’s leaning on her elbows, head tilted upward so that she can keep eye contact, let Kara know that she’s there, through her shyness. Kara takes a breath, says the only thing she can manage. “So, that thing. That we talked about.”

“That thing,” Sara parrots. She’s lighting up, and maybe it’s Kara’s imagination but she swears she can see Sara’s pupils dilate. She gives Kara a crooked smile, like she’s got plans. 

Kara shifts her weight, thighs pressing together instinctively and it gives her a sudden jolt, a reminder of _why_ she’s nervous: because just thinking about this gets her so excited that she can hardly stand it. “You know the thing.”

“I do,” Sara says gently. 

“So I did some research and I really want to try it, but I’m kind of really nervous about it, too.” 

Sara rises up on her tiptoes to reach Kara’s face from across the counter and manages to kiss the side of her mouth. “You don’t have to be nervous,” she says. “But it’s good for me to know that you want that.” 

“Yeah?” Kara says. She sounds just as breathless as she feels. 

Sara nods. “Can I ask you some questions?” 

“Sure.” 

Sara asks her details: who Kara wants to wear it (not her, definitely not her), whether they should go toy-shopping or use one Sara already has (the latter). Then she runs her thumb across Kara’s knuckles, asks: “Do you want to try it today?” 

The question feels like it hangs in the air between them. Kara can’t even begin to process what Sara might be feeling; she’s too caught up in the flurry of anticipation and desire and nerves happening inside herself. 

“I don’t know,” Kara finally manages. “Maybe.” 

“Why don’t we just hang out, and see where we end up?” Sara says. She’s got a hand on Kara’s, and her thumb is tracing these small circles across Kara’s skin that make her feel less like she’s inside her own head, more like she’s here with Sara and everything’s going to be okay. Hanging out, she can handle. 

 

They end up on the couch. Kara’s relaxed enough to lean against Sara’s side, and she’s halfway through a story about a particularly angry customer at work when Sara’s eyes start to go a little unfocused, like she’s not paying attention anymore. “ - what?” Kara asks, stopping mid-sentence. 

Sara raises her eyebrows in reply, and lifts Kara’s feet off the coffee table, sets them on the floor. Then she slings her leg across Kara’s lap, straddling her. 

“Hi there,” Kara says, her hands settling instinctively on Sara’s hips. 

“Hi,” Sara says, with a grin like she wants to devour Kara. 

“I was telling a really good story, you know. There was going to be a funny ending.” 

Sara chuckles as she leans down to capture Kara’s mouth, and _oh_. All of Kara’s desire comes hurtling back, suddenly making her extremely aware of her body. She feels the weight of Sara’s thighs on her lap, the gentle throb of her clit, the way her inner walls suddenly clench, like they’ve been waiting for this moment. Sara pulls away and Kara is utterly breathless, her mind a pleasant, fuzzy blank. “You were saying?” Sara says. 

“Don’t get smug,” Kara replies. 

“I would never,” Sara mumbles, smugly, before kissing her again. 

Sara’s mouth is expressive and Kara doesn’t think she’ll ever get over it: the way that she can communicate desire, make Kara feel cared for and safe and aroused all at once, just with a kiss. Kara starts the kiss breathless, but by the time Sara’s done she feels like she’s floating, sinking into the couch cushions. She’s only half-aware of the fact that she’s whimpering, that Sara’s swallowing each one, humming with delight against her mouth. 

Kara doesn’t know when Sara unbuttoned her jeans. By the time she realizes it’s happened, Sara’s leaning back, pulling at each side of Kara’s fly to balance herself. “I want these off,” she drawls. “Do you want them off?” 

“Yeah,” Kara says. “Yes please.” 

Sara releases Kara’s waistband with a flourish and slides out of her lap. Kara stands to shimmy out of her jeans. Once she’s up, jeans halfway down her thighs, Sara hooks a thumb into the top of her underwear. “These too?” she says, half-question, half-command. 

Kara makes sure those come off, too. She ends up naked from the waist down, standing in front of Sara whose eyes are roaming, full of intent and desire. Kara does her best not to shiver too visibly in reply. “Sit down,” Sara says. 

Kara does.  
Sara slides the coffee table backwards so that there’s space for her to settle between Kara’s knees. She tugs at Kara’s hips until she’s got Kara sort of slouching, her hips hanging off the edge of the couch, not far off from the way she was sitting on her own couch a few nights ago. Kara can feel Sara’s shoulders brush against the insides of her thighs as she arranges herself, and it’s enough to make her shudder. She’s already oversensitive, her body noticing every touch, every swirl and eddy of air moving against her skin. 

Sara kisses the top of Kara’s vulva. The contact makes her shiver, a feeling that lingers when Sara meets her eyes. “Should I go down on you?” she asks. 

Kara feels herself clench. There’s something about Sara _saying it_ that makes her want it more than ever. “ _Yes_ ,” she manages, half a sigh. 

“Okay,” Sara whispers against her skin. 

Her tongue is slow, deliberate, as she slides it in between Kara’s lips. Kara feels every movement, every touch against her inner labia as Sara licks toward her clit. She flicks her tongue against it, feather-light, and Kara’s so sensitive by now that it’s enough to make her arch up and whimper. 

Sara nuzzles in, tongue sliding around the hood of Kara’s clit and then lower, dipping into her entrance and teasing at it. She licks her way through every other part of Kara’s cunt, attentive to everything but the spot where Kara’s body needs contact the most. It takes Kara several long minutes of wordless frustration before it occurs to her that it’s exactly what Sara means to do. She rocks her hips, trying to be gentle but she wants so _much_ , feels an ache building inside her and she just needs, needs _Sara_. 

Kara lets out another whine, wriggling her hips in frustration. It’s not the most articulate thing she’s ever done, but at this point, she hardly cares. All she cares about is the way that Sara chuckles against her, obliging, and the movement of her mouth. She works her tongue upward and finds Kara’s clit with agonizing slowness. Kara feels pressure, and then she loses track of what Sara’s mouth is doing except for the fact that it’s _good_. She feels her orgasm building, everything inside her cunt throbbing pleasure until she tumbles over the edge. Her vision goes white and she hears herself cry out and then she’s _done_ , gushing wet against Sara’s chin. She feels her inner walls pulse, clenching against nothingness as she slowly comes back to herself. 

Kara breathes, eyes closed. She’s too far gone to keep track of passing time, but it’s maybe minutes of floaty, dreamy nothingness, aware of her arousal dissipating, the her breathing slowing. She feels like she could lie here forever. 

When her eyes finally flutter open, Sara’s beside her, slick-mouthed and grinning. “Hey,” she says. 

Kara feels a flutter behind her ribs, this time, and breaks into her widest smile. “Hey, you.”

Sara kisses her, soft and sweet. She tastes like Kara, slippery-musky, and Kara licks her lips when they break apart. “How you doing?” 

“So good,” Kara says.

“More relaxed?” she asks. 

Kara nods. She feels _amazing_ , and she’s surprised to notice that all of her nervousness from before has dissipated. Sara nuzzles in close, kissing at Kara’s cheeks, her jaw, her earlobe. Then she says, “Do you feel relaxed enough for me to fuck you?” 

The words hit her in a way that Kara feels, almost like touch. She feels her inner walls flex, suddenly making her aware of how slick she is, how nice it would feel to be _filled._ But now, it doesn’t seem scary at all. It seems like the obvious next thing. She giggles, turning her head to meet Sara’s eyes. “Right now?” she asks. Her voice is clear, a little eagerness showing around the edges. 

“If you want.”

“Yes,” Kara says. “Yes, I want.” 

Kara hears Sara’s breath catch, and when their eyes meet she can’t help but notice the way Sara’s pupils are dark, the way she’s looking at Kara like she wants this just as badly. She reaches up and strokes Kara’s hair, tucks it gently behind her ear. “Do you want to come pick some things out with me, or should I take care of it?” 

Kara needs to remind herself to breathe. She likes the idea of _both_ , but her desire is so unfocused, and she’s not sure that she’d know enough about what to pick, anyway. “You, please.” 

Sara smiles and captures Kara’s mouth in a long, slow kiss. “Give me a five minute head start, then meet me in the bedroom.” 

There’s more than one bedroom in the apartment, but Kara knows which one she means: the room that belongs to Sara, with the toy box under the bed. She passes five minutes - she thinks, it might be closer to three - checking her phone, folding her jeans and underwear and leaving them neatly on the couch, trying not to think too hard about how eager she already feels. 

She doesn’t know what she’d expected, when she gets to the doorway of Sara’s bedroom, but it wasn’t this: Sara and some toys laid out, nothing more. Kara can hardly remember why this felt like such a big deal, before. There’s something on the bed that looks sort of strappy, several strips of leather connected to a triangular piece with a round opening in the middle. It’s got more buckles than Kara would expect, but she’s pretty sure it’s a harness. There’s a toy - a _dildo_ , she needs to at least be able to think the word if it’s going to go inside her - sitting next to it. It’s sort of cute, bright pink silicone with yellow and blue swirly bits, and it doesn’t look too big at all. 

Sara’s sitting on the bed nearby, and when Kara’s gaze finally makes it to her, she smiles. 

“Hey, you,” Sara says. “Come here.” 

Kara sits on the bed. She’s suddenly aware of how slippery she is between her legs, of the fact that she’s half-naked. She wants to look at Sara, but all those toys are just _there_ and they’re going to _use them_ and she can’t get herself to stop staring. She thinks about touching, maybe - just the dildo, just to see what it feels like - but she’s not sure if she should. 

She looks up again to find Sara watching her, patiently. “You can touch it, if you want.” 

Kara leaves the harness, but she picks the dildo up and sort of squeezes. It’s got more give than she thought it would, whatever it’s made of soft and yielding in a way that she hadn’t expected. She’s not sure how that would translate to having it inside, but when the thought crosses her mind, her whole lower half feels like it flutters with anticipation. The feeling makes Kara squirm, her hand tilts. The head of the dildo flops back and forth, wildly, and Kara can’t help it: she giggles. 

“It’s not as scary as I thought it would be,” Kara says. 

Sara laughs back. “Not scary at all.” 

Sara closes the distance between them, kissing Kara and urging her downward in one movement. Kara tumbles back onto the bed, everything forgotten but Sara’s mouth and the weight of Sara’s body on top of her. Sara’s kissing her with purpose, now. There’s an urgency to her mouth, echoed in the way the apex of her thighs presses into Kara’s hip, insistent. 

Sara’s free hand works at Kara’s shirt, exposing her belly, her breasts. They break apart long enough for Sara to take off Kara’s shirt, undo her bra. Kara does the same to Sara, sliding her tank top off and pressing swift kisses to the swell of her breasts, nuzzling impossibly soft skin. 

Sara groans, wriggles so that she can press Kara back down to the bed, holding her close so that their bare breasts slide together, Kara’s _favourite_. She sighs at the feeling, arching against Sara’s body for more contact, more everything. Then Sara leans down, brings her mouth lower to kiss at Kara’s breasts. She takes Kara’s nipple into her mouth, sucking gently and flicking at it with her tongue and Kara shudders. The touch sets off a wave of pleasure that starts where Sara’s mouth is against her skin and settles between Kara’s thighs, an ache building inside her. It’s so _good_ , and even better when Sara keeps going, working on her breasts until she’s whimpering, clutching at Sara’s shoulders. 

Her whole body just wants her to be _touched_ , and maybe they don’t need any toys, maybe whatever Sara can do right now is fine because Kara wants and wants and wants, doesn’t think she can wait for it. 

Sara’s mouth disappears from her skin. It takes a moment for Kara to register it, to notice the way that her body feels cold and to connect that to the absence of Sara on top of her. “Give me a minute,” Sara whispers, kissing Kara’s temple. 

Kara opens her eyes, looking toward the sound of her voice to find Sara shimmying out of her underwear. She watches, fascinated, as Sara slides the dildo into the harness, and then arranges the whole thing around her hips. The harness seemed bewildering to Kara before, but Sara slides into it with practiced ease, arranging it around her hips like it’s no big deal. Sara catches her looking, smiles. “Buckle me up?” she asks. 

There’s one buckle still unfastened, the one at Sara’s hips. She’s holding either side of it out to her, and Kara slides it together with slightly shaky fingers, tightens until Sara tells her that it feels right. 

Then she leans back, and looks. It’s a little odd, the contrast between the black leather straps against Sara’s hips and the neon toy between her legs. She smiles. “What do you think?” she asks. 

“It’s a little silly,” Kara admits. “But in a good way.” 

Sara laughs. “What, this?” she says, and moves her hips. The dildo flops in a circle, and it’s suddenly not scary at all, it’s _ridiculous_. 

Kara laughs back, a real laugh that ends in giggles, as Sara starts rotating her hips in slow circles. She suspects Sara’s being silly for her benefit, but it’s working. None of the articles Kara read talked about this part, how this could feel fun and safe and sexy all at the same time. 

“Stop,” Kara says, trying to reclaim some semblance of the mood from a few minutes earlier. She still wants this, as ridiculous as the toy looks on Sara’s hips. 

She reaches out, trying to grab for the dildo. Sara moves her hips forward, accidentally bucking it right into Kara’s hand. There’s a push-pull, as Kara stills it, and it digs into Sara’s pelvis and Sara suddenly stops mid-laugh, bites her lip, and _oh._ That’s something she hadn’t thought about. “Can you -?” Kara asks. 

“Yeah,” Sara replies. Her voice is low, thick with arousal. Not silly at all. 

Kara’s still got her hand on the dildo and she feels Sara lean forward, pressing her hips into it as she captures Kara’s mouth. Kara sighs into the kiss, allows herself to be pressed back into the bed. Sara ends up on top of her, the dildo pressed between them, firm against Kara’s belly. They kiss until Kara’s whimpering, until her cunt feels heavy, aching to be filled. 

She whimpers Sara’s name, adds _please_ and Sara groans, says, “Yeah. Yeah, just a second.” 

Sara leaves again, reaches for her nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom. She rolls onto her back, unwraps the package and slides it onto the dildo. “Okay,” she says. “Come here.” 

Kara positions herself so that her hips are on either side of Sara’s, hovering above her. Her cunt is throbbing, and she feels like she wants nothing more than to sink down onto the toy, as fast as she can. Sara holds the shaft of the dildo in her hand, thumb near the head, and Kara does her best to be patient as Sara guides her hips nearer. The head of it brushes against Kara’s entrance, stretching her slightly, and she whines in reply, bucking downward. “Easy,” Sara drawls. “Be patient.” 

Kara doesn’t want to be patient. Kara wants to be _fucked_ , and she’s so close to getting what she needs that she can hardly stand it. Kara feels Sara’s thumb brush against her inner labia, guiding the dildo into the right spot and then _yes_ , there’s friction and stretch and Kara’s being filled, little by little. “Hold still,” Sara murmurs.

Kara’s _trying_ , she is. She hears the rustle of sheets, feels Sara’s hips cant upward and then the dildo moves inside her, a fraction of an inch. It’s just enough friction but not enough _fullness_ and she whimpers, bucks her hips downward instinctively. “You ready?” Sara asks. 

Kara doesn’t have words, but she has whimpers and nodding and the gentle _yes_ of her hips rocking up and down, and that seems like it’s enough. “Okay, sweetness,” Sara whispers. 

Kara sinks down, letting the dildo fill her until she can’t be filled any more and oh, it’s _perfect._ She rises up, feels the contours of the toy along every part of her inner walls, sinks down again. Being filled a second time is so nice that she slumps forward, half-boneless, whimpering.

Sara rocks her hips, thrusting just a little. Kara hadn’t yet realized that she _wasn’t_ , and the feel of it is overwhelming. She hears herself cry out, bucks back against Sara’s hips and suddenly she feels even _more_. 

She lets Sara guide her, lets Sara establish a rhythm. Her hips move in time with it automatically, and Kara’s glad for that because she’s not sure her conscious brain is working well enough to manage that. She feels like a bundle of sensations and moans, every movement of Sara’s hips bringing more sound from her, making her feel good, so good. 

Sara drags a hand along the length of Kara’s spine, brings it back up to touch her face. “Do you need to touch yourself?” she murmurs. 

Kara doesn’t know. She thinks maybe, but her brain is so full of _yes_ , so focused on the movement of Sara’s hips and the way that’s being translated _into_ her that she can’t quite form words. “I want you to touch yourself,” Sara says. 

That, Kara can manage. She uses one hand to brace herself against the bed, slips the other into the space between her hips and Sara’s, finds her clit. She touches herself gently, fingertips pressing upward and she feels it in her clit and inside herself, feels her cunt flex around the dildo. It feels like a loop, escalating pleasure and it’s not long before she’s coming, messy and wet against Sara’s hips. Her whole body feels _full_ , clenching around the toy and breaking apart. Everything suddenly feels big, as she hits peak that’s almost endless, like Kara’s hanging in space. She stays there, suspended for a moment in time before her orgasm hits her with such force that she sees stars. 

She doesn’t know how much time passes, but she knows that when she comes back down, she’s slumped against Sara, nuzzling into her shoulder. The dildo is still inside her, and Sara’s mumbling sweet things, rubbing her back, helping her through it. “You okay?” Sara whispers. 

Kara nods, nuzzling closer. “I like that,” she mumbles against Sara’s skin. 

“Good,” Sara says. She shifts against the bed, and the dildo moves inside Kara, suddenly sending another aftershock through her. “Can I -?” she asks, indicating the harness. 

Kara nods, shivering as the dildo slides out of her. She curls herself up on the bed, lets her eyes drift shut as she hears Sara unbuckle the harness, pad to the bathroom. She’s still floating, afterglowy in a way that she hasn’t felt in a while, only dimly aware of the sounds of the sink, the sound of Sara returning to her. 

Sara fits herself along Kara’s side, her chin in the curve of Kara’s shoulder and her leg slung across Kara’s hips. “You’re pretty, all worn out,” she says, her voice whisper-soft and gentle. 

Kara feels pride swell in her chest, stretches out. She can already feel the muscles in her hips starting to ache, know she’ll feel this in the morning. “’M not worn out,” she manages. 

Sara kisses her shoulder. “You’re not?”

Kara is absolutely worn out, dreamy and so exhausted that she could probably fall asleep right now despite it only being mid-afternoon. But she’s never been able to back down from a challenge. She rolls onto her side, meeting Sara’s eyes, and slips her free hand in between Sara’s legs. She’s rewarded with slickness, with Sara’s bottom lip catching between her teeth as she bites back a moan. Kara grins, says, “Not even a little.”


End file.
